Please don’t ask me why! Please don’t ask me what the matter is. I don’t know how to explain it my friend.
I went shopping for you. I saved up so I could afford to go and buy new lingerie in the sales. I knew you would like that. I was so excited about seeing you. I was right to be excited. But you didn’t have time for my new lacy numbers. Your nimble fingers deftly removed every layer before you had chance to behold them.
So you never noticed the pretty matching lingerie sets or the bodices, or babydolls. The lace, silk and sheer fabrics in every colour of the rainbow were a waste of time and money.
In some ways it seemed flattering. That you didn’t have the patience to for my lacey fashion show. You seemed hungry for me. Day after day, night after night, you were in such a hurry, you never once saw me in my new lingerie.
I wish you had. I wish you had taken the time to look at me. Properly. Since I was thirteen I have hated all the lumps and bumps that make me a woman. But I wish you had taken the time to tell me they were beautiful. Someone else does that now. He tells me everytime he sees me.
Somewhere along the line, I seemed to come to the conclusion that you didn’t want to look at me. Somewhere along the line, I started to feel there was something unattractive about me. My confidence was eroded gradually. It came to that awful point where I was embarrassed of you seeing anything of me. I wanted to hide myself away under the covers. I wanted to run from the bed to the shower hidden in my robe.
It’s not you. It’s my fault. I just kind of wish you had taken longer to gaze at me, maybe a few compliments would not have gone amiss. You showed me how you felt in a very physical way. But for some reason, I was sad that all that lingerie was a waste of time. I could have been wearing any old thing and you would not have cared – would you? You always said that clothes are a complete waste of time. But I didn’t realize that included pretty lingerie.
I loved every moment with you. Every moment. But I think I wasted money on all that lingerie. I am sorry I became shy. I don’t know why. You didn’t do anything to make me feel inadequate. It was just that you didn’t once look at me in my pretty lingerie. You were always in such a hurry to peel off every layer.
I find it hard to accept that it is over. I still find myself looking at pretty lingerie in department stores, wondering what you would think of me wearing it. But you were never interested in seeing me in my lacy numbers. You couldn’t wait to see me in my “birthday suit” instead.
Someone else sees me in my pretty lingerie now. I have not been able to afford anything new since we started courting. But, I fear some of it is already a little shabby, frayed in places. When I have saved a little, I will go out and but some new lingerie. It won’t be a waste of money this time.